


Duty

by paranoid_parallax



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Arranged Marriage, Backstory, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Childhood Trauma, Dark, Drowning, F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Loneliness, Loss of Parent(s), Mental Health Issues, One Shot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Sacrifice, Sexism, Yue (Avatar)-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:19:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25737169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paranoid_parallax/pseuds/paranoid_parallax
Summary: Princess Yue has always known what is expected of her, and accepted her duties to her family and people. Like her mother before her, she gives everything she has to offer — up to and including her life.
Relationships: Sokka/Yue (Avatar)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	Duty

Princess Yue was eleven years old when her mother drowned herself.

When her father rushed out in a panic after hearing the news, she had been told to stay in her room, but she had followed him anyway.

The night was cool, the sky clear but moonless. She hadn’t really known yet what had happened — had only caught some of the whispers — but she hurried after the men, tripping over her skirts in her haste to help her mother.

Her own heart had nearly stopped beating when she caught sight of the body.

In her shock, she had stopped bothering to hide. Father had seen her and ushered her away frantically, sternly admonishing her for sneaking out. Even then, she could feel that his anger came from a place of protectiveness — and with the image of her mother’s body burned into her mind forever, she wanted to crawl into that place and never come out.

Mother had been a kind woman.

Kind, and lonely. And tired.

* * *

From then on, Yue always listened to her father. She was quiet, polite, and obedient, learning all that was expected of her and no more.

She still saw her mother sometimes, in dreams. Whether they were the sort she felt safe in or the sort that terrified her seemed entirely arbitrary, but both types left her wide awake and crying silently for the rest of the night.

At sixteen, she was engaged to the young warrior Hahn. Knowing her father approved, she accepted the necklace he had carved for her with a smile, allowing him to clasp it around her neck while their parents discussed the wedding plans.

Hahn seemed nice enough, she supposed. They had barely spoken, but that was to be expected. Their marriage would be politically advantageous — she didn’t really know the finer details; she didn’t need to. It was not expected of her. All Yue needed to know was that this was her future husband, and she would be honored to accept his proposal.

* * *

Yue certainly hadn’t meant to develop feelings for Sokka.

Here she was, engaged to another man and yet off spending time with this boy, smiling and laughing and blushing and even _kissing_ him — she was becoming the sort of woman she’d been taught to look down on.

In her room, she cried herself to sleep, trying to push away thoughts of the one she could not have. Why did she feel this way? This had never been an issue before.

She supposed she had never been in love before.

It had honestly never occurred to her that someday she might be. She had always known her marriage would be one of duty to her tribe, and never paid much attention to the few boys she encountered in her sheltered life.

Sokka made her heart feel light. The mere sight of him lit up something inside her that had been stifled for years under the weight of grief and her father’s expectations.

But she could not have him, and she knew it. Finally, too late to save her honor but early enough to preserve her engagement, she turned him down for good.

When her father announced that men were needed for a dangerous mission, and Sokka volunteered, her heart twisted, but she said nothing. After receiving her father’s mark, he met her eyes one more time, looking so sad.

_He’s going to die for you. You’re going to kill him too._

_You’ll never get to see him again._

She turned away, tears streaming down her face, careful not to make a sound.

When Father noticed and asked her what was wrong, she told him she was worried for her people — not a lie, of course — and he reassured her that it would be alright. Behind her smile, her heart felt like a dead weight in her chest, like an anchor, dragging her down into the sea after her mother —

_No._ An anchor would not drown her, it would keep her on course.

The heaviness was supposed to be there. She knew her destiny, and she would face it.

* * *

When the Moon Spirit was killed by the Fire Nation admiral, she felt its loss deep within her immediately.

The world was dark and gray, the sky blood red.

As the old man reminded her of her gift, she felt a last twinge of selfish fear and sadness in her chest.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed it aside and got to her feet, pulling her hand away from the boy she loved and approaching the dead white koi fish with determination. As the life she had been gifted poured back into the body of the dead spirit, Yue felt her mother with her — and then even further back, generations of loneliness and oceans of tears flooding her as she performed her duty for what she knew would be the last time. There was a kind of peace in knowing she had done everything she could.

Consciousness slipped away from her, and she quietly acquiesced to the darkness.

* * *

It was as though she had blinked.

She was alive now, perhaps for the first time.

No — the first time, at least in many years, had been with a sweet, smitten, slightly awkward boy from the Southern Tribe.

The Moon Spirit was something new now, something strange and apart, something that could tell she no longer belonged with a human man. That might have made her sad, if she were still the mortal princess she had been even moments ago. As it was, she felt peace.

Still, her heart burst with affection as she leaned down to give him one last kiss — a kiss that she didn’t need to worry about the repercussions of; a kiss she felt no shame for sharing, let alone for wanting.

“Goodbye, Sokka. I will always be with you.”


End file.
